Talking eyes
by MyHeartIsAnApple
Summary: A Christmas tag. "And then there were their eyes, their talking eyes that didn't need a single word to express their meaningful truths."


**AN: a little Christmas tag set somewhere at the end of season five to wish to all of you great Holidays.**

 **I hope you like it!**

"So, Teresa, tell me about yourself.. what about your family?"

Lisbon sighed and tried to find an answer, even a simple one, in her glass of red wine.

Talk about herself had never been easy, talk about herself to a stranger even more.

How can you say to your date at your first dinner together that your life has always been a total mess?

She looked in his dark brown eyes but she found nothing.

"My mum died when I was twelve in a car accident, my father killed himself some years later, I've raised my 3 brothers alone then I've left them to join the police, I'm currently chasing a sick serial killer who has destroyed the life of the person I care the most in the whole world and months ago I've faked my own death to help him with his plan.. oh and I love tequila by the way ."

She said casually, gulping the last sip of her wine.

Silence filled the air.

"Oh, that's.. that's interesting, I mean, incredible.. no wait, you were joking, right?" He said, smiling hopeful at her.

She smiled back, bitterly.

"I shouldn't be here." she murmured to herself.

"Sorry?" He asked her.

"I shouldn't be here, I'm sorry, thanks for the dinner." She said, leaving the restaurant.

The moment she was outside, cold air hit her as a train; it was like she had been in a sort of bubble until now pretending that everything was normal, pretending that going out with a decent and attractive man was something possible in her diary.

The truth was, she didn't want that.

She wanted something real, she wanted someone who knew her inner demons but didn't escape from them; she didn't want compassion though, she wanted understanding, silent agreement, she needed authenticity .

And once again, she was spending Christmas Eve alone, walking on a Sacramento's street without a place or a reason to celebrate.

Suddenly a thought jumped in her melancholic mind, she was a damaged woman and now, ironically, she wanted or better, she needed to be with a man only, an equally damaged one.

Jane.

It was funny how Jane in all his complexity could be her easy choice somehow.

Easy sometimes seems a negative concept, a cheap way out... but easy can be a different matter too.

It can bring hope, it can bring unattainable happiness.

Patrick Jane knew every single demon and dark side of her soul,

Patrick Jane had his own giant dark cloud of pain,

Patrick Jane never judged her,

Patrick Jane had never made her feel uncomfortable in all the time they had spent together.

There was this silent accord between them, like a secret meeting of their souls that made them sure of mutual support even without asking it.

And then there were their eyes, their talking eyes that didn't need a single word to express their meaningful truths.

More than once, she had looked in his turquoise eyes and she had found everything.

She entered in the first market, thanking Christmas times that made every shop still opened so late at night, and she found what she was looking for.

Fifteen minutes later she was in front of his attic, heart in her throat, childish hope in her eyes, a little Christmas tree in her right hand, bright decorations in her left.

She was insecure for a few second but then her hopeless desolation gave her the courage she needed. She started kicking his door, both her hands busy, and honestly she didn't mind that little outburst of energy.

The door opened suddenly and she almost hit his shin in the process.

He looked confused at her, a little sleepy, unkempt hair and glossy eyes and then, after a few seconds, he smiled.

"What are you doing here, Lisbon?" He asked, still smiling.

"You needed a Christmas tree." She answered, entering in his shelter.

"Of course, silly me, I've barely a bed, why not a Christmas tree?"

"Hush." She snapped back, "don't worry, I have decorations."

They started decorating the tree silently, pausing sometimes to admire their work, until Jane broke the silence,

"Ok Lisbon, why are you here? Talk woman." He asked, contemplating a little shimmering angel in his hand.

"I had dinner with a man this evening, and I screwed everything up." She said, searching shyly for his eyes.

He looked at her, some annoyance in his gaze, "why?"

"He asked me about my past, you know, my family.. so I made a small but exhaustive picture to him.. at the end he thought I was kidding." She said and then she started laughing.

He laughed with her until when he saw her laughter becoming slowly tender tears.

He looked at her, his gaze wrapping her as an hug.

"What's wrong with me, Jane? Why I can't go out with a normal guy like everyone else? Why I.." She stopped for a moment, insecure for what she was about to say, "why I can't stop comparing every single man with you?"

She asked, noticing his speechless silence.

"First time I've met you," She kept talking, invigorated somehow, "I've looked you in the eyes and I've felt something, like a magic circle was linking us forever, it's silly, I know, but it seems I can't escape from it" She said, wiping a tear.

He would have wanted to remain in silence all night, listening to her sweet words, the only able to make him feel lightness and hope again.

"You.. you haven't told me why are you really here though." He said in the end.

She sighed and almost rolled her eyes at the question, then she replied.

"I left the restaurant, I bought a tree in a Chinese shop and I came here because there's no place I'd rather be."

He took her hand then and pulled her toward him, his arms wrapped her like a soft blanket.

"You've just made my Christmas incredibly beautiful." He whispered in her hair.

"I wish I could do more." She said softly, playing with a button of his shirt.

"You've already done enough, maybe it's my turn now, don't you think?" He asked, his hand finding her cheek.

She looked confused at him, her eyes a pool of hopeful fear.

He looked at his watch.

"You have five seconds to stop me."

"What?"

"Five" he said and then kissed her forehead,

"four" he kissed her nose, and smiled noticing her impatience.

"three" the left corner of her mouth,

"two" the right one.

"And one." He said, finding her lips for the first time.

Every time she thought the kiss was over, he kept kissing her once more, small but so powerful kisses.

"I do the same by the way." He said suddenly, interrupting the kisses.

"What?" She asked curious.

"I compare every other woman with you but you always win."

Her smile was his favorite answer.

"Merry Christmas, Teresa." He said, touching her lips once again.

And it was a fantastic Christmas indeed.

 **Merry Christmas guys!**


End file.
